


Human After All

by hkasof



Category: Mob Psycho 100, モブサイコ100 | Mob Psycho 100
Genre: Bittersweet, M/M, Tension, being in a public place while remembering everything bad you ever did, i dont know how tags work. i love matsugami, supernatural couple domesticity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-15
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2020-01-13 16:54:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18473140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hkasof/pseuds/hkasof
Summary: For a pair like Mogami and Matsuo, normal life is an odd term at best to refer to how their daily life returned to after Seasoning City was nearly annihilated. But regardless, things seemed to be returning back to normal. Until Mogami saw a familiar face.





	Human After All

Usually, Matsuo woke up two hours after staying up ungodly late researching the latest conspiracy theory. Today he had a client and was awake by 8 AM. He sat up and came face to face with a white bed sheet floating inches from his face.

 

“I’ll haunt you until you last dying breath,” said the ghost. Matsuo yawned.

“Is that a promise?” he asked, rubbing his eyes.

 “Do you want it to be?”

Matsuo pulled the bed sheet off Mogami. 

“I really, really do.”  

 

\-- -- --

 

Life went back to normal after the events in Seasoning City, or at least as normal as they could be for someone like Mogami and Matsuo. Matsuo went back to freelancing as a ghost pest control service, and more often than not Mogami accompanied him. If a spirit didn’t catch Matsuo’s eye, it ended up as a snack for him. 

“I think we’re done here,” said Matsuo, facing the customer after Mogami finished off one ghost.

“Oh, you have no idea how much of a relief that is,” sighed the client. She and Matsuo exchanged idle chat before they walked into the kitchen so she could write a check. Mogami floated nearby, observing them. Matsuo seemed to be getting better at talking with clients. “It’s been lonely since I lost my husband, but this wasn’t the kind of company I wanted, you know?” 

“I understand,” said Matsuo. “My partner’s no longer on this plane too.” 

The client regarded Matsuo with sympathetic surprise for a quiet moment. 

“I’m sorry you’ve experienced such a loss too,” she finally said, her voice soft and hands clasped tight.

  
“Oh, don’t be,” said Matsuo, shrugging, trying to keep his amusement at the sudden shift in tone private. “Some days I feel like they’re still with me.”

_“You’re awful,”_ said Mogami.

“Whispering sweet, sweet nothings into my ear.”

_“Your jokes would kill me if I wasn’t deceased.”_

The client smiled.

“You two must have been kindred spirits.”

Matsuo’s eyes darted to the doorway of the kitchen. Mogami huffed, sticking his hands in his pockets. He knew by Matsuo’s satisfied smile his actions gave him away. Matsuo thanked the customer and headed out. He turned to Mogami.

“The day is young... how about some shopping?”

Mogami stayed silent, floating close to Matsuo. Matsuo leaned into him, closing his eyes. He walked away and Mogami followed.

 

\-- -- --

 

Mogami would never admit he liked going to the grocery store. Maybe he didn’t have to, Matsuo knew he was keen on speaking his mind when he didn’t like something. He hadn’t had human food in a long time, but he could still enjoy the chime of the bells and the colorful labels scattered across the store, regardless.

For someone who always named his pets after sweets, Matsuo was good with self restraint. If he did buy a dessert it was after making sure he had everything else to get through the week. Mogami recalled Matsuo once remarking his parents told him to never shop on an empty stomach. Sometimes, though, Matsuo would ask him for suggestions. He’d take out his phone and hold it to his ear, answering a call that never came.

“What should I make for dinner tonight?” mused Matsuo. “I wouldn’t pass up a sale on onions.”

“A stew?” said Mogami. He pretended to be busy looking at mushrooms. 

“Perfect,” said Matsuo. “It is pretty chilly lately.”

At first the mock calls felt silly and Mogami refused to entertain them for more than a sentence or two. Now, he replied until Matsuo put his phone away to pay at the register. There was something domestic about it. To anyone else in the store, Matsuo was just chatting in excitement to his partner about what to make when he came home for dinner. Mogami wasn’t sure how to describe how that made him feel. Warm, maybe.

They walked out the store into the brisk winter air. Matsuo shivered, while the air passed seamlessly through Mogami. The sidewalk was crowded with people. People probably trying to move as fast as possible to get home from errands, observed Mogami, from how bundled they were and how swiftly they moved through the cold. He loved winter, but he couldn’t say he missed the chill.

He phased through the crowd, following Matsuo, until a glimpse of purple hair stopped him in his tracks. Matsuo didn’t seem to notice, walking on. Even bundled in exorbitant and extravagant winter coats, there was no mistake. It was Minori Asagiri and her father.

 Mogami found he was no longer on the sidewalk. He was in the mansion, surrounded by broken glass and dark shadows. He was breaking the fingers of a playground bully and he was throwing people through the crowd with as much ease as some would flick a toothpick away. He was surrounded by people who feared him and what he could do. He was evil incarnate, and they were hapless souls trapped with him. Until that boy stepped forward.

Mogami didn’t realize until a scream ripped through the air that Minori could see him too. She fell back against her dad, her feet failing beneath her as she struggled to get away, never daring to take her eyes away from Mogami. 

“Get away, don’t come near me!” she cried, fingers digging into her dad’s coat. Passerby were stopping on the sidewalk to look at her. “I won’t do anything bad ever again, please, please! S-stay back!”  
  
“Ah, Minori! What’s wrong?” Masashi held onto her, looking around in confusion.

Mogami was halfway between the sidewalk and the mansion. His eyes turned dark, air starting to whistle around him. He couldn’t tell if Minori was apologizing because she learned or because she was trying to save herself. He couldn’t tell if he was any different either. He didn’t get an answer as he was whisked away into a different darkness he hadn’t seen for a long time.

Matsuo capped the bottle, storing it in his pocket. Minori pointed frantically where Mogami had stood, eyes wide. 

“He was h-here, the monster!” said Minori, crying as though she had woken from a nightmare. Masashi tried to desperately pick a face out in the crowd. His eyes fell on Matsuo with a look of vague discomfort. Matsuo was accustomed to that much from strangers.

“Do... do I know you?” he asked Matsuo, already seeming apologetic.

“Afraid not,” said Matsuo. “I’m just a spectre passing through.”

He picked up his grocery bags and left the Asagiris and the confused passerbys, who were still looking around for what was no longer there. The cold wasn’t bothering him as much.

 

\--- --- ---

 

Mogami was propelled out of darkness, into the living room. He looked around in shock until he focused on Matsuo, holding the bottle. His eyes narrowed and he looked at the ground.

“Why did you bottle me.”

It stung more like an accusation than a question. Matsuo shrugged it off.

 “You were freaking out.”

“You thought I would hurt someone.” Mogami’s voice was rising.

“No,” Matsuo said. His voice remained calm, his stare unfaltering. “I’ll be honest, I wasn’t sure what would happen, but I knew nothing good would come from you or Minori staying in sight of each other.”

“So you don’t trust me,” said Mogami. “Because people can’t change. She hasn’t changed, I haven’t changed. You knew that and you trapped me.”

Shadows started to curl and spin around the room. Matsuo still had the bottle in his hands. 

“People never change,” Mogami said. His voice became strained. “They make empty promises, and we can dull our nature for a few days, or a few weeks. Maybe even a few months, if we’re really clever. But in the end, humans are utterly disappointing.”

Mogami finally looked up to meet Matsuo’s eyes. They were endless tunnels, Matsuo saw nothing through them. Mogami walked over to him, until they were just a few feet away from each other. Matsuo tilted his head and chewed the inside of his lip. He never looked away. 

“I’d like to think I can speak for myself,” said Matsuo. “I’ve changed.”

“How?”

“I’m no longer a terrorist aiding in taking over the world, for one. Maybe I’m a little weird. I know I say weird things. But I think questionable social skills is a lesser crime of the two, don’t you think?”  

Mogami’s hands were clenched. Matsuo rubbed his chin in thought.

“I’m trying to think of how to explain this.”

“Human nature?” Mogami let out a dry laugh. “I’ve had my fair share of that in life and afterlife. What could you have to offer?”

“Oh no, not that,” Matsuo said, waving his hand. “I think… I think seeing Minori upset you because it brought you back to how you used to be. It’s easier to accept the bad than to see how you’ve improved. Especially if you see someone who only knew you back then.” 

“Because she knew from one look I was still a monster. You knew that too, and you trapped me. You hate me. You’ve only let me stay for so long because you’re more scared of what I’d do if I wasn’t restrained from the world.”

Matsuo stepped closer to Mogami. He bristled, and Matsuo halted. The bottle was still clasped in his hand.

“I don’t think improvement is linear,” said Matsuo. “I think of it like… like seasons. We have good seasons, where everything in bloom. It’s pretty wonderful. And we also have bad ones, where it’s winter and everything is scarce and empty. But we have to remember they all end, eventually.”

Matsuo smiled weakly, shoulders heaving. Mogami thought he was trembling in fear, in fear of _him_ , until he let out an uneasy laugh. It was something else.

“I don’t always like myself,” he said. “And I don’t always think I’m a good person. Some days I really and quite truly hate myself.”

Matsuo stepped closer.

“But I’m doing better,” said Matsuo. “And I’ll keep doing better no matter how many bad seasons I have. And so will you.” 

Matsuo dropped the bottle and smashed it under his foot. 

Mogami moved towards Matsuo. The glass shards were scattered between them. Matsuo hadn’t brought his belt when they went outside, as even for him he knew it was a little weird to walk around with a belt full of black film capsules. It was only Mogami, Matsuo, the glass and the dark.

Mogami walked up to Matsuo until their faces were an inch apart.

“There’s nothing to stop me from killing you now,” said Mogami.

“Of course,” said Matsuo. “I’m only human after all.”

Mogami moved forward. His hands dug into the back of Matsuo’s shirt like claws. Then he collapsed against him. Matsuo wrapped his arms around Mogami, stopping when he felt him tense.

“I’m sorry.” Mogami pressed himself closer to Matsuo.

“It’s okay,” said Matsuo.

“I never meant for things to go this way.”

“Of course you didn’t,” said Matsuo. “You weren’t the 21st century’s greatest mindreader.” 

A hoarse scoff rattled through Mogami and shook against Matsuo.

“That was a horrible joke,” the ghost said. He didn’t move from Matsuo’s arms. 

“Yeah, well, I’m full of them,” Matsuo said. 

“Is it true?” asked Mogami. “Do you really hate yourself?”

Matsuo nodded absently. “Well, some days, yes.  I hope if I don’t tell anyone it will go away faster. I know I can be dramatic. And weird. And creepy. And I fall into conspiracy theory rabbit holes deep into the night.”

“Is that supposed to be bad?” Mogami rested his chin on top of Matsuo’s head. Matsuo let out his own scoff. 

“I guess it depends on how you see it,” he admitted. He leaned against the ghost. “I wish you could see yourself how I see you.” 

“What a funny notion,” said Mogami, closing his eyes. “I wish I could do the same for you.”

Matsuo cracked a smile. 

“Maybe we can help teach each other,” the esper said.

Mogami nodded.

“I’d like that. Maybe after we clean up the glass.”

“Oh, yeah.” Matsuo laughed. “Hold on, I’ll get a dustpan. Want me to put on a movie?”

“I can wait.”

Mogami was already pointing at the shards, gathering them neatly into a pile. _Seasons_? he thought. Matsuo walked back into the room and beamed in pleasant surprise at the neat pile, smiling at Mogami before sweeping them up. 

“Maybe we can watch _Invasion of the Body Snatchers_. You haven’t seen that one yet, right? We’re gonna cross off all the classics first, and I think you’ll really like this one...” 

The corner of Mogami’s mouth curled. Even if it was a bad winter, at least it was a little less lonely with company. Matsuo swept up the shards and stood up, walking over to him. Matsuo cupped a hand to his cheek, kissing him before walking away. Something about it made Mogami feel spring was close.

 

**Author's Note:**

> A big thank you to my friend Blairkitsch who helped me edit this fic! I haven't written a fic (outside of comics) in a long time, and he was a big help. Also, if you like Matsugami content like this, I recommend checking out my tumblr/insta/twitter "hkasof"-they're my favorite MP100 pairing so I draw them quite often. <:3


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